


After the Crash, Before the Pain.

by passcrow



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:12:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5975095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passcrow/pseuds/passcrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It's like layin' a bike down.  Everything is so fast, motion and sound and just panic, ya know?”  His chest expanded as he pulled a lungful of smoke.  “But there's a second, right after you hit but before the pain, where it's like everything stops.  And you hope it lasts forever because you know when time starts up again everything is gonna hurt like a motherfucker and the blood is gonna flow.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Crash, Before the Pain.

“Nothin' about this is gonna settle in my mind. Tara, Gemma? What Jax did?” He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders back hard as he sipped at cigarette smoke.. “I can't even wrap my head around it.” Venus nodded slightly and settled her drink against the small table that lined the railing. “I just keep thinkin' about how spun out she was. The drinkin', the weed. Tara did that to her, makin' up shit about dead babies, talkin' about takin' her boys away.”

“You will never know why, Alexander. Women are different, baby. In the way we love, the way we hate. The insidious shit that goes on in our minds.” For a second she sounded so much like Gemma that he shivered. “Entire worlds in our brains, baby. An infinite number of grudges and old hurts that fester and grow beyond all reason. They call us the fairer sex but we are rarely fair. And hell hath no fury.” But the smile she passed him was gentle, her eyes catching the reflected light from the streetlamps and shading a more whiskeyed brown than hazel. “You need to let it go, Alexander. Because all it's going to do is twist you up inside. You need to walk away from it, to accept the fact that the situation is immutable.” Her fingers ran the angles of his cheek, nails scraping up in his scruff. “Don't knock your head against this wall, baby.”

“I dunno what else to do. She never told me nothin'. I'da protected her, Venus.” He broke his shoulders in a harder shrug, jaw turned down as he shook his head. “I'da put her over my patch without a thought. Stepped in front of that bullet or put one of my own right in his head.” The admission was soft and sure, color and heat flooding his face. “But she didn't tell me nothin'.”

“She'd reached her end, Alexander. Gemma was a very intelligent, extremely capable woman. She went home and waited for Jackson to find her. She was ready for it to be over. She didn't want to be saved, angel.”

“Maybe.” Tig cocked his hips harder, sliding down in the chair as he hooked his boots up against the railing that lined the little balcony. “I just can't watch her burn. I know it's what she wanted, and I know it's not the same. But I can't. Not after Dawnie.” Cigarette smoke wreathed his head and the ashtray next to him was half flooded with bent butts. Venus nodded without speaking, stepping over the stretch of his legs to settle beside him, half in his lap and curled up against his chest. Tig passed his lit smoke easily to his opposite hand so that he could card his fingers into her hair. “Ya know?”

“I do.” It was comforting to have him against her, to have his arm around her and the smell of him in her nose. Venus let her head rest down against his collarbone, one hand up and rubbing at his neck. “The hypertensive funeral man has everything he needs. It'll all be fine, baby.”

“It's like laying a bike down. Everything is so fast, motion and sound and just panic, ya know?” His chest expanded as he pulled a lungful of smoke. “But there's a second, right after you hit but before the pain, where it's like everything stops. And you hope it lasts forever because you know when time starts up again everything is gonna hurt like a motherfucker and the blood is gonna flow.” When she tried to turn her head to look at him he palmed against her cheek and held her still. “I mean, it hurts now, like, emotionally and shit. But I keep waiting for time to start up again, keep waitin' for the pain, because, baby, there is no way I was supposed to live through this.”

“Alexander.”

“Nah, nah, just listen, baby.” His body shifted a bit as he crushed the half smoked cigarette into the ashtray and pulled her fuller into his lap. The weight of her, instead of being uncomfortable, was soothing. “So much goddamn blood, everyone around me droppin'. Like the goddamn reaper was walking through, tapping people to the left and right of me, hesitatin', and movin' on.” The rub of his calloused palms into her shirt was more than comfort, it was foreplay, his fingers skimming up under the fabric to rub aimlessly into her skin. “Always with a little smirk, an 'I'll be back for you' look, ya know?” Venus moaned either agreement or appreciation into his chest. The feel of it, the vibration of the sound on his skin ran heat to the pit of his stomach. “So many close calls. But I just kept gettin' that smirk and the brother to the left would go down.” His arms bulged and the quiet rush of ripping fabric spread between them as he caught her shirt in his palms and pulled. The thin jersey fabric parted more easily than he expected.

“The neighbors--”

“Are all in bed. And if they're not, fuck 'em.” He was rougher than he meant to be, his nails scratching up her back in an uncontrolled rush. “After Dawn, when we ended up in jail and Ope died? It shoulda been my brains on the floor. But it wasn't and Jax, man, he used that like a goddamn whip. Made sure I'd never vote against him again. Even when he got in bed with Pope. The man who burned my daughter in front of me.” Tig bunched her hair in one hand, holding it up and away from her neck. The rush of his stubble flamed on her skin, flushed lust through her entire body and she stretched up into his, breasts pressing tight to his chest. “It was like a knife in my gut, twisting and twisting. He worked with that motherfucker and I couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.” Now he pulled her up and let her look at him, at the drawn angles of his face in the dark. His eyes were dark in equal parts lust and anger. His hands worked the remains of the shirt down, thumbs running the white satin of her bra. “He strung me along like a dog on a leash, Ope's death and my own goddamn stupidity as a choke chain.”

Spitting the words to one side he leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth with force. Venus offered up a moan, letting it breathe into his mouth as he licked against her teeth, the pressure of his mouth matching the play of his hands against her ribs. The taste of whiskey and cigarettes was as familiar to her as the way he bit at her lip when he pulled back, teeth tagged lightly together. His thumbs rubbed over her nipples, playing with them through the fabric. “He gave me over to Pope. Just...offered me up, said it was a plan, but, shit, baby, he didn't give a goddamn. And then he used me to get Clay, told me to kill the animal that murdered my baby, put that gun in my hand.” Instead of undoing her bra, Tig dropped his hands to her hips, grinding her down into his lap, against the hardness that pressed worn denim.

It was easier to talk while rubbing lusted warmth into her skin, easier to breathe when he was breathing in the perfumed smell of her skin. Tig licked a line from between her breasts to the hollow of her throat, rashing his stubble into her cleavage. “And then, Reaper's back, bang, there goes Clay, bang, Bobby. And I'm still standing there, just waitin' for him to finally point my way.”

“Alexander, please.” She offered him the beg, one hand up in her hair while the other rubbed and tightened on his forearm, nails tipping into his skin. “Touch me.” Keeping one arm wrapped around her, palm pressed into the middle of her back for balance, Tig complied. She was wearing silk under her pants, her erection straining against the damp fabric as her hips rocked back and forth.

“Jax took us all on a vengeance ride. Didn't give a shit about SAMCRO, spun it all out into bullets and blood on a goddamn lie.” Tig drew his knees up slightly, planting the bottoms of his boots against the rail so that he could lean Venus back a bit into his legs. She braced herself with a hand on his shin, lifting up onto her knees, the position cramped and uncomfortable for them both. “Gemma's lie.” She murmured his name when he curled his fingers into her length, drawing a tight hold and turning his wrist into even strokes. “Juice, Jax. And bam, Chibby and I are the last ones standing. Last of the SAMCRO regulators. Battered, broken, and bloodstained, but standing.” He watched her face, traced the way pleasure tightened her jaw and had her eyelids fluttering. “And I'm waiting for the crash, and that second in between. Like I'm on the ground, broken, covered in road rash, just waitin' for the pain to start.” She bit her lip, steady breaks of pleasured sound coming from her chest as he tightened his grip, rubbing up and over the head of her erection on every stroke.

He lifted his hand to her jaw, thumb tracing the way he'd kissed her lips swollen and red, fingers tucked in her hair. He was chewing on his own lips without realizing it, his entire body tensed as he watched her. There was the barest hint of stubble along her cheeks, the shadowed wash of it on her jaw nearly lost in the outside darkness. The wide spread of her shoulders was muscled as she held her balance in his lap, one arm bent back, hand pressed into the denim that covered his shin while the other ran hair off her forehead. Her bra was glowing white on darker skin, nipples pointed against the silky fabric. She was beautiful.

Tig arched his hips, ignoring the throb from his own painfully hard erection, and pulled her down for a kiss. It was gentle, soft, careful, and thorough. Licking her lips, he begged entrance instead of demanding it, matching the strokes of his tongue to the strokes of his hand. Venus groaned and opened her mouth to him, clutching into his shoulders and thrusting into his curled hand. “You kept me alive, baby.” He panted the words into her mouth, kissing the veracity of them into her lips. “You keep me in that minute. Where nothing hurts. After the crash, before the pain.” His free hand slipped between satin and skin, his fingers rubbing and pinching lightly at her nipples. “Just keep me here, baby, don't let me go.” He breathed the words into her skin, he licked along the shell of her ear, biting at her earlobe before moving lower, letting his tongue lave against her throat. He marked her, nipping and sucking the sweat from her skin as he nuzzled into her neck. “Don't let me go.”

Wet warmth spread against his knuckles and he drew his strokes longer and smoother when Venus's hips ran ragged. She came saying his name, her voice dipped low and lusted against the back of his head, lips kissing into his curls.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Can't feel my ass.” Tig continued running his hand through Venus's hair, letting his fingers smooth at the snarls. Her laugh against his chest made him smile. “Pretty sure I came in my pants.”

“That would certainly explain the wet spot I am currently quite comfortable in.” And she was comfortable, completely draped across him, her body lax and lulled, her only motion the brush of her fingers into his shoulder. Tig laughed and lit a cigarette, his body lightened by confession, the weight of his worry less now that he'd pressed them into her skin, stroked them into her mouth with his tongue.

“Been a few years since that's happened.” The smoke didn't taste as good as she had, the mix of perfume and sweat on his tongue, the unnameable spice of her skin that he'd come to crave. He blew the smoke out his nose, sighing into it as he shifted, letting his hand rub down against her bare back, fingers stroking the line of her bra strap. “You cold, baby?”

“Well, I do seem to be without a shirt at the moment.” She found his nipple through the fabric of his shirt and pinched her nails into it, rolling him a warm look. “Beast.”

“Sorry.” And he was. For the scratches he'd drawn up her back if for nothing else. Venus smirked and nudged her leg up into the growing hardness that pressed her thigh. “You keep doin' that and I might have to add some shredded panties to the body count, darlin'.” The filter of the cigarette bent under the pressure of his fingers when she pressed harder.

“Care to put your money where your mouth is, Alexander?” Drawing higher on his chest she stroked her hand down to his wet jeans. His eyes fogged blue when she rubbed at his half hard length, fingernail ticking on the brass zipper. The smirk on her face pressed even more lust low into his stomach, a heated pulse that he felt all the way to his sleep tingling toes. “If I put my mouth where my hand is?”

“You put your mouth where your hand is and I'm gonna come in my pants again.” Tig flicked the cigarette over the edge of the balcony and grabbed her wrist. Pulling her hand up he settled her close to his chest and wrapped both arms around her, balancing her into his chest and dropping his feet off the railing. She whooped laughter when he stood, the sudden, startled sound of it drawing a quick ratchet of excited barking from inside the apartment. “And I'm too goddamn old to waste a second hard on.” He held her for a second, liking the feel and heft of her in his arms but the pins and needles that tingled his feet made him unsteady and he slowly lowered her to her feet, keeping her wrapped in both arms. “I'm gonna make you scream my name, baby.” The words seethed into her ear.

“Bet I can make you beg me to let you come first.” Venus matched his tone and his eyes, tongue flickering along her bottom lip before she grazed into it with her teeth. “I have a large and varied skill set, darling boy.” She pinched his ass hard, bruising even through the denim of his jeans.

“How much we talkin', sweetheart? 'Cause earnin' straight don't pull in as much cash as runnin' guns and pussy money is a little tight right now.” He laughed into his own words, his eyes brightening in humor. The run of her hands against his ass was pure lusted torture, the way she dug her nails around to his hips a taunting tease.

“Mmm, I am a very high class woman, Mr. Trager.” She rubbed her hand down, palming against his mostly hard erection before sidestepping the way he was leaning his hips into her hand and tugged at the sliding door. “I'm not sure you can afford me.”

“Get over here.” One step and he tagged at her hips, pressing her into the glass and rubbing his hips hard into hers. “I might have a spare bit of change stashed away.” Tig caged her back, his body full force against hers, hands planted on either side of her head, palms flat to the door. A flex ran his shoulders as he bent to suck at her neck, his teeth skating over the marks he'd already left there. “Not that it matters.” The run of her chest was too seductive, the taste of her fuzzing out his thinking, stilling all the echoing thoughts that ratcheted around and around in his skull. He sucked at the satin of her bra, wetting the white fabric and teasing his teeth into her nipple. There was a distant awareness of the force he was shoving into her, the flex of the glass behind her, and the very real possibility of coming in his pants again. “'Cause you ain't gonna win.”

“Oh, baby.” Her nails scratched at the nape of his neck, fingers scruffing and tugging at dark curls as she worked one leg between his thighs. “I always win.” Venus laughed at the groan that rattled his chest when she hiked her knee up into his groin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You cheated.” Tig turned his head enough to taste the salt that slicked her skin, letting his head settle evenly between her breasts. He was still softening inside her, his hips jerking unevenly in over stimulation. The bend of his knees into the mattress helped spread his weight but he was pressed fully over top her. It still felt wrong, letting her cradle him against her body as he settled into fatigued pleasure, but there was comfort there too.

“I won.” There were bright scratches up the flat plane of Tig's back and curving over the rise of his shoulder, a rush of red against his paled skin that had dried tacky. Venus wiped her fingers over the marks, feeling the way it made him shudder, made his spent erection twitch. “And you loved it.”

He mumbled agreement into the side of her breast, already lulling towards sleep, his body taking on weight and heft that she held easily. There were older scars and scrapes battered into the naked length of his torso and she rubbed love into those also, sliding her fingers as low as she could reach before circling back up. The long bend of her legs wrapped up along his hips, holding him close and stilling the way he was trying to fidget himself awake. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Rematch.” His breath was damp and hot, a settled and slow pace pressed into her skin. “Best two of three.”

“Not right now, Alexander.”

“Yeah, gonna need a second.” He rubbed his head against her chest, sighing into the warmth and comfort that she offered. Venus tangled her fingers into his curls, letting her palm rest against the curve of his skull. “Jus' a second.”

“Stop talking, stubborn boy. You're not going to win this fight either.” The motion of her other hand along his shoulder and arm matched his breathing, a straight attempt at soothing him into sleep.

“Uh huh.” The nip of pain he bit into the side of her breast was more playful negation than lust, his head settling lower and heavier even as he continued to twitch and fidget himself away from sleep.

“Tigger, shut your mouth.”

“Not what you were sayin' a minute ago.” She felt the smile on his lips when she pressed her fingers against his mouth. With a gentle nudge she held his jaw, palming it shut and letting her thumb and fingers pinch at his lips.

“You need to sleep.” The press of her heels against his ass rocked him off his knees, laying him flat into the mattress and atop her, their bodies pressed warm and comfortable. “You know you need to sleep, why are you fighting me on this?” But she knew. Knew that he feared sleep and the nightmares that came when he closed his eyes.

“Habit.” His words were mumbled. He shifted just enough to draw one hand up and cup at her breast, fingers running small circles into her skin. “You okay if I stay like this? 'Cause I can--”

“Hush.” Venus ran one foot down his leg, leaving the other hooked across his ass. One handed she tugged the sheet mostly over their bodies. “Sleep.”

“Best two outta three.” His voice was low and soft, drifted out before the very cusp of sleep. “Jus' need a second.” The words trailed off on a breath that was half snore, his fingers twitching into sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He fully expected the dream when it came. The expectation didn't help, didn't change a thing as the night unfolded behind his closed lids. Knowing it was a dream did nothing. He still snapped awake with a choked sob, tears and sweat washed along his paled cheeks. He sat up without thinking, instantly drawing himself from the bed and towards the light that gleamed beyond the half closed bedroom door. There was a slight woof and then the click of toenails against polished wood as Sammy followed him, her shoulder bumping companionably against his leg.

“Hey, baby.” Still guttering breath he knelt full down on the living room floor, his body shaking and spent and rubbed into the pitbull's side. Wiggling with excitement she licked at his face, lapping the salted moisture from his cheeks. “Good girl. Good Sammy.” Tig scruffed his hands in her short fur and pressed his forehead into her warmth. The dog woofed again, a quiet noise of agreement that chuffed against the side of his neck. He was shaky and exhaustion blurred, nightmare slick sweated skin breaking out in goosebumps in the cooler air, chills working the knobbed length of his spine. “You're such a good girl.” Petting the dog steadied his hands, the motion of it set and soothing, the short fur comfortingly warm under cold palms. Sammy chuffed again, wiggling with pleasure at his attention. Tig sighed at the devoted affection in the dog's eyes, hands rubbing and scruffing into her fur. It was a soothing repetition, constant motion for his tired muscles and even more tired mind. And she'd lay there until he stopped, content to let him pet and poke at her as long as he needed.

Tig plied his hand up along the dog's neck, scratching underneath her collar before patting her. When she rolled off her back and regained her feet she headed directly to the kitchen and started nosing at her food bowl. Tig sighed, both hands running to the back of his neck as he popped and twisted the stiffness out of it. His fingers kneading and rubbing at the tensed muscle in an attempt to stall the headache that went from his temples to the bottom of his shoulder blades. As he worked at the pain he glanced around the tidy room, eyes lingering on the way Venus had made room for him.

There was a pile of his clothes on the couch, a scatter of his pocket shit on the kitchen counter and a couple pairs of boots by her door. An engine repair manual was cocked open on her coffee table next to a battered pair of riding gloves. All small reminders that for all intents and purposes he'd moved in, tried to tuck himself into her safe little apartment. His knees cracked as he stood, shotgun snaps that sent dull a dull aching up toward his hips. He grabbed at the clothing, tugging a pair of pajama pants free. They smelled like oranges and fabric softener, another comfort against his skin as he pulled them up over bare thighs, letting the fabric snap low on his waist.

The rattle and crunch of kibble led him towards the kitchen, one hand flipping at the light switch to flood the small room with brightness. Sammy was sprawled in the middle of the floor, nose buried in her food dish. She didn't even move when he passed the archway and leaned a hand into the sliding glass door. It had gotten cooler outside, by no means cold but it still chilled on his bed warm skin. Tig settled both palms into the railing that ran around the small balcony, leaning his weight forward and stretching out his shoulders.

He reached for the pack of cigarettes he'd left on the small stand the night before, pulling one free and sticking it in his mouth. He sighed as he dropped back into the chair and let his head settle back . The first draw of smoke loosened at his chest, a nicotine rush that he chased with three small white pills from the cellophane wrapper of the pack. The taste of them was gritted and acidic on his tongue, coating his teeth as he chewed, holding the paste in his mouth until his gums tingled.

Still smoking, he let his head settle to one palm, bracing his elbow on the arm of the chair. The quiet crawled up his spine and settled at the back of his neck, a jitter of nerves that he didn't have the energy to work out. If he had been at the clubhouse he'd have gone for a ride, just gotten on his Dyna and pegged it out. Half stoned and flying up the coast road, body on autopilot until the sun broke over the ocean. Or drank himself into a blind drunk and bury himself in cheap croweater pussy, maybe started a fight and let the tension bleed from a split lip or a broken nose. Instead he sat and smoked, staring out at the night as he waited for the pills to kick in.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tig jumped from a black sleep when warm fingers ran the crown of his head, Venus's fingers smoothing against his sleep corkscrewed hair. Her other hand was on his shoulder, holding him from the awkwardly jolted movement his startled body automatically let off. As soon as he was awake she shifted into his lap, effectively leaning comfort and safety along his slumped form, lips soft and gentle against his ear. The blanket she'd wrapped around her shoulders puddled to the floor.

“It's just me.” But he already knew that, already had the familiar scent of her in his nose, the heated fresh out from underneath warm covers smell of her skin. Knew the silk against his chest, the thin sheered coolness of it over warm skin. The recognized pressure and pull of fingernails against his scalp had bypassed his half stoned and still mostly unconscious brain and started relaxing the taut muscles. “You've been out here long enough, baby, it's time to come back to bed.”

His words weren't coherent enough to make sense, the leftover bittered tang of downers slurring against his sleep tangled tongue. She turned her palm down, cupping against his jaw, thumb running the scruffed skin, giving him time. Tig let his eyes flutter closed into the touching, turning his jaw harder into her hold, a sigh blowing through thinned lips. “My bed is cold, Alexander. Your annoying habit of drawing away in times of distress is robbing me of beauty sleep. Which, I, being naturally beautiful, don't necessarily need, but I enjoy it very much.”

“Sorry.” He hated how often he apologized to her, how often the horrible shit he did bled out all over her in the middle of the night when he couldn't keep his demons caged behind a fierce look and a feral smile. He deserved the sleepless nights, she didn't.

“I don't want your apology, angel, I want you.” Venus pressed into his still slumped form, kissing him full on the mouth, lips chastely closed and soft. “Come with me.”

“I don't deserve you.” The mumbling was soft, a slurred declaration. Venus shushed against it, this time leading her tongue against his lips, licking them open and drawing the kiss hot and full. Laggingly, he met the thrusting motion, teeth gritting against the sweetness of her lips before lifting a hand into her back. The bittered taste of the pills he'd taken lingered on her tongue when she drew back, smiling into the increased snap of his breath and the way his bottom lip was reddened from her teeth.

“Come inside.”

“Can't. Don't wanna sleep anymore. Stay with me?” The stretch of his fingers silked against the strap of the nightgown she'd tugged on, his callouses rasping on silk. “Please?” His face was paled and puffed, a bruised love bite shadowing the underside of his jaw. Venus moved off his lap, soothing against the saddened breath that groaned in his chest as she scooped the blanket up and spread it over them. The comforting smell of warmed fabric softener and her perfume washed over him and Tig sighed, turning her head down onto his chest. He caged her tight to his chest with both arms, shifting until they were both semi comfortable in the chair, the blanket spreading most of their exposed skin.

**Author's Note:**

> So. This was a part of a much larger work that I started to work on after SOA ended. It never got finished. But I was bored so I went through and culled this section out and reworked a few things because I liked the image. That 'how the holy fuck did I live through that?' that Tigger is trapped in. Because I, as a viewer, was completely stunned that he did. That Sutter not only let our loveable, psychotic, teddy bear of a biker live, but let him end up with Venus. Shit. That's amazing. So, here's this fic. Hope you enjoy.


End file.
